Somehow, though it wasn't publically known, everyone had a hunch that Sasuke wasn't one that was fond of sweet things. Yet, he was always offered such things. Girls always came to him with chocolate gifts or sweet tea offerings. If it wasn't that then he'd frequently be asked on outings to the dango shop in town.
Why…?
Then he'd have to act mean and heartless, just how he was always forced to portray himself, and reject the poor, weak girls with a curt and disgusted, "I don't like sweets".
So, on cold days when everyone is drinking a warm cup of sweet tea or hot cocoa Sasuke is obviously not doing the same—despite the need for warmed hands and core he cannot and will not bring himself to drink such a thing.
He could opt for warm water, that'd warm him up, surely, but it's tasteless and, well, honestly he thought it was a lame idea. And, as already stated, he was obviously not going to drink anything sweet. Of course there's non-sweetened tea but to put it frankly, as good as any cup of tea is, he gets tired of the taste of tea easily during the cold season.
Thus, one cold day after a long morning of training in the below freezing cold, Sasuke came home with the intent of drinking something warm. But…what? Frustrated with the thought he was about to grab another plain pouch of tea when he decided to double check his supply of perishable goods and noticed his small jug of milk. He touches the handle of the jug and daintily pulls it from its cooling place and he can't help but to stare at it.
Huh… Of all things in his life, how could he forget such a precious memory?
When he was younger, Sasuke remembers that on cold days like this, trying to convince someone to train with him was the hardest. He was still little, weak, and prone to getting…the dreaded cold. So, when he'd sometimes storm out of the house and into the cold in a fit of child's rage he'd always come back within an hour's time without the chance of getting any training done. His mother would badger him about the cold and illness while wrapping him up firmly in coats and blankets and offering him a warm cup of milk, which, he would always gladly accept.
The cup's warmth given off by the milk was just enough to heat Sasuke's small, pudgy hands to perfection, the steam cleared his booger stuffed nose, and the warm milk, slipping down his throat, defrosting as it goes, always warmed his core with an affectionate glow and he swore that his mom had the magic touch…in making drinks that is.
Indecisively, Sasuke thought it over. His thumb rubbed against the milk jug as he went through his memories and sorted a list of "how to-s" in his head. It was decided.
He shut the fridge down harshly, by accident, popped off the milk jug's cap and emptied the milk into a small saucepan that he thought, if he recalled correctly, could be used to heat up the pale liquid. When that was done he carefully, but impatiently, poured the hot milk into a mug and sat at his table with it.
Sasuke sat with his eyes close, hands set around the mug, absorbing the warmth. After a little while he takes a sip and burns his tongue with a wince. Ah, he remembers doing that when he was little too…
Warm… the pasty liquid slides down his throat and soothes him just enough to make Sasuke close his eyes again. This was definitely what he needed. Not sweet, not boring, not tasteless… His mother's milk.
